


Baby It's Cold Outside (And I'm Warm In Here With You)

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, VIXX, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AU, M/M, eonnie's famous crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which wonsik is really good at skiing, yoongi really sucks, and the two of them decide there are better things to do at a ski resort than pursue Exciting Outdoor Activities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby It's Cold Outside (And I'm Warm In Here With You)

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt from [gotmehookedonthekpop](gotmehookedonthekpop.tumblr.com) over on tumblr.

This was a fucking bad idea. Why the hell hadn't he listened to himself earlier, when he'd _said_ this was a bad idea? But here he fucking was, bundled up like some kind of human cotton ball and staring down the edge of a fucking _mountain_ with his feet attached to two fucking _sticks._ This was so fucking bad.

“You okay?” came the voice of a guy behind him and he huffed, waving one hand back and forth and bracing himself for the inevitable pain he was going to be in when he reached the bottom of this fucking hill. Mountain. _Slope,_ or whatever it was. If he even reached the fucking bottom at all! What the _fuck._

“You definitely don't look okay,” the voice was closer and he rolled his eyes, glaring out from underneath his dark bangs. He was going to do this. He was going to do this and he was going to fucking die and he was going to haunt Jung Hoseok's _ass_ until the end of fucking time. See if that fucker ever got laid again when he was shitting every twenty fucking minutes. “Do you need some help getting down?”

“What? No,” he swatted at the air again, almost losing one of his poles in the process. “No, I got it.”

“You don't look like it,” came that voice, warm and amused. “Are you up here on a dare or something?”

“Go away,” he hissed.

“Well,” the guy pulled up next to him and he glanced over—strong profile, elegant nose, big grin before he pulled up his facemask. “I've been told that the best way to figure out how to ski is to decide on the way down that you just really want to live, so. I'd take the right side. There's less obstruction over there. Good luck, shorty!”

“I am _not short--_ ”

But then said guy was jetting off down the hill, and he scowled, gritting his teeth and walking himself over to the right side of the slope, swallowing hard. _Stay relaxed, don't get stiff hyung, you'll be fine!_ Fucking lies, that's what those were.

“I really want to live,” he said to the mountain at large, and inched his way closer until he got his skis slanted and tucked his poles up and forced himself not to close his eyes because if he did that he was going to hit the fucking treeline or something and they'd be combing his splattered brains out of the pine needles forever.

 _Treat it like rollerblades,_ Jeongguk had said, and he struggled to do just that, keep his knees relaxed, his hips loose as he purposely went around the little jumps instead of over them because shit, he didn't want to be flying through the fucking air, holy shit he was going to fast, holy shit there was the fucking bottom—

He jerked to the side—like he was pulling a short stop on rollerblades—and started to tumble, landing hard on his arm and ribs, and cracking his head into the ground.

“Hyung!!” Hoseok's voice was loud and scared and Min Yoongi thought he kind of fucking deserved to be scared. What a jackass. Struggling to get up, he realized he'd lost both poles and one ski and he was disoriented enough to squint up at Hoseok through the tinted goggles and mistake him for Taehyung.

“I am never doing this again,” he said, closing his eyes as the headache kicked down the door and stormed in swinging. “Help me inside.”

~

Aah, this was much better. Inside the ski lodge, Yoongi could enjoy the snowy weather just the way he liked to: curled up un a chair under a big fucking blanket with a book in his lap, thank you very much. Hoseok had fucking _cried_ getting him inside; apparently terrified that he was broken into nine thousand bone shards or something, but all that had happened was some really horrific bruising up his right side and on the top of his left shoulder, and a killer headache that had him all but incapacitated for a few hours. No concussion, no broken bones. But he wasn't going outside again, and Hoseok didn't attempt to make him. He'd go skating later, once most of the kids were off the ice, but until then he was going to stay right where he was.

It was almost four hours before he got up to get changed, thermal leggings and jeans, a few layers of shirt beneath his jacket, beanie and fingerless gloves as he headed out to the ice with his skates in hand. Most of the little kids were gone, given the hour, but the rink was open all night, so he could stay as long as he wanted. He liked ice skating; it was easy, came naturally, like rollerblading always had. Granted, some of the principle actions were different, but he'd never had a problem managing it. He tightened up his skates and climbed out onto the ice, going in a slow, smooth circle. The ice was in rough shape given all the action it had seen that day, but he didn't really care.

“Hyung,” he heard Hoseok call from the edge. “We're gonna go get dinner, are you coming?”

“I'll go later,” he said, waving over and blinking, because someone was with Hoseok, someone with a strong profile and an interesting nose. The guy from Death Mountain? Yoongi couldn't tell, the guy had been decked out, covered from head to toe. The guy with Hoseok was wearing jeans and a jacket, a beanie and gloves and maybe it was him, huh. That smile was pretty distinctive.

He cocked his head as the guy headed out onto the ice after waving to someone else, who waved Hoseok over. What the hell? He didn't recognize that guy. _I have friends who come every year, so we're just gonna meet them there._ Oh. Maybe that was the friend.

“Hey,” said Death Mountain Guy, skating over and looking pretty damned clumsy. Yoongi blinked. “You're Yoongi, huh? I'm Wonsik,” he offered out his hand. “I'm friends with Hoseok.”

“Oh,” Yoongi replied intelligently, offering out his hand for a shake. “You're not here to make fun of me are you, because I am _so_ done being made fun of for almost killing myself. It was Hoseok's fault anyway.”

“I thought you did pretty well,” Wonsik laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I mean all things considered, you made it down, right? No broken bones or anything. And Hoseok said it was your first time skiing on a big slope? Even more impressive.”

“You're flattering me,” Yoongi squinted in suspicion and Wonsik laughed, starting to skate, his legs a bit wobbly.

“You're cute,” Wonsik replied with a shrug. “So I guess technically I'm flirting with you. As long as it doesn't gross you out. If it does, I'll stop.”

“No,” Yoongi replied, taking three long strides and catching up easily to Wonsik, turning to skate backwards, facing him, facing back, facing him again. “It doesn't. I mean you did kind of keep me from dying, so I guess a little flirting can't be that big a deal.”

“Payback?” Wonsik asked, staggering a little.

“You're bad at this,” Yoongi observed, and Wonsik nodded.

“Yep. But, you know. You're bad at skiing and you managed, so I guess I can handle this.” Yoongi blinked and felt that weird little thrill he always did when someone complimented him, even in a roundabout way like that.

“Here,” Yoongi reached out and took Wonsik's wrist. “First of all, get your hands out of your pockets. Use your arms for balance. Now, like this,” he put his weight down on one skate, moved forward and out. Did the same with the other. “You have to move your legs.”

“Right,” Wonsik nodded, looking down at the ice like he didn't trust it one bit and that was probably for the best. “This is hard, is it because I'm taller than you? You have a lower center of gravity.”

“Yah, call me short again and I'll leave you out here to fall on your face.”

“You're not short, I take it back,” Wonsik said, looking panicked as his skates slipped out from under him and Yoongi had to dig in his toe pick to make sure he had the leverage to keep Wonsik from falling flat on his stupid face and breaking his interesting nose.

Yoongi couldn't help but smile.

Wonsik was kind of cute.

~

“So you really don't do the outdoor winter thing, huh?”

“Nope.”

“So why did you come?”

“Hoseok asked me. Jimin had to cancel last minute, he figured he didn't want the extra pass to go to waste, but I guess it's being wasted anyway. I feel kind of bad, and then I remember that I almost died.”

“Don't exaggerate,” Wonsik laughed and Yoongi smirked down at his notebook, which he was doodling in. It was hard to be productive when Wonsik was around. They'd spent the last couple of days hanging out inside or at the skating rink, talking about their hobbies and cautiously prodding one another for interest. Hoseok had informed Yoongi in no uncertain terms that Wonsik was Single and Ready To Mingle, but he had yet to make a move. It just seemed so ridiculous: they were at a fucking ski resort. He'd probably never see Wonsik again, since he was going back home after this and who knew where Wonsik was even from?

“You took a big fall. But did you die?”

“I guess not, since you're here annoying me,” Yoongi replied, and smiled as Wonsik rolled his eyes. “Don't roll your eyes at me. Go find someone else to bother, you're a brat.”

“I like annoying you,” Wonsik replied easily. “Besides, Hongbin and Hakyeon are disgusting, I don't want to hang out with them. Or Jaehwan and Seokjin either, gross.”

“So you just want to come hang out with the single guy and hope you get a hook-up?”

“A hook-up would be nice,” Wonsik admitted, and Yoongi stared at him. “What? You're looking at me like I just kicked your kitten or something.”

“You want to hook up. With me.”

“Do you see any other asocial, grumpy brunettes in this room?” Wonsik asked, and Yoongi scowled.

“Don't make fun of me.”

“What's so unbelievable about me wanting to hook up with you,” Wonsik said, leaning forward as Yoongi shrank back into the couch, unsure of what to do. He hadn't hooked up with anyone in a long fucking time. He was always too busy, or too grumpy, or too _short,_ too skinny. He wasn't attractive, not like Jeongguk, so yeah, it was pretty fucking unbelievable.

“Hey,” Wonsik said, and Yoongi blinked at him. “Is this okay?”

“I guess?” he said. Wonsik was good-looking, had a good... Personality. He was a bit of an arrogant jerk but to be fair who among them wasn't? Himself included. Besides, it might be nice to make out with someone for the first time in, oh... Like three years? He'd just been so fucking _busy._

“You guess?” Wonsik asked.

“What do you want me to say, _Yes, Kim Wonsik, I'd like very much for you to sweep me off my feet and take me to bed with y-_ you--!” Yoongi made a very unattractive noise as Wonsik moved back and then hoisted him up, the notebook tumbling off to his side, his socked feet kicking uselessly as he was held bridal style. “Yah! Yah, put me down, I can walk myself!”

“You said sweep you off your feet,” Wonsik laughed, and Yoongi hit him hard in the shoulder.

“It was a _figure of speech,_ jackass, now put me _down._ ”

Wonsik did put him down, though he kept an arm around his shoulder and smiled handsomely. Yoongi wanted to punch him in the dick, a little bit. But at the same time wanted to yank him in and kiss him so hard he'd forget to laugh about the way Yoongi had given a Very Dignified squawk just then. Thinking that Wonsik would need his dick later, say, within the next twenty minutes, Yoongi opted for the kissing.

Wonsik had a small, somewhat narrow mouth, like his own, and he tasted like the coffee he seemed to be drinking at all hours of the day, a bad habit picked up from his roommate. Yoongi took great pleasure in the way Wonsik moaned first, his hands sliding back into the pockets of Yoongi's jeans and gripping his backside. They were so fucking lucky that they were already in Yoongi's room, and that the door was closed, locked, almost like they'd been expecting this to happen.

When they parted for air, Wonsik's eyes were dark and narrow and Yoongi swallowed hard. Wonsik was looking at him like he was a piece of meat and he couldn't decide if it freaked him out or turned him on and he settled for _both, both is good._ “What,” he asked, gasping when Wonsik lifted him up beneath the thighs, holding him there chest to chest. “Shit--”

“I am going to fuck you so hard you aren't going to be able to _move_ tomorrow,” Wonsik almost snarled and Yoongi felt fire in his belly, a rising challenge, fuck yes, fuck _yes._ He clawed his hands up in Wonsik's hair and yanked him forward, biting at his bottom lip.

“I'd like to see you try.”

~

“Holy shit,” Yoongi breathed, moan-whispered into the back of the couch and Wonsik's bare shoulder, his hands still gripping the windowsill. “Oh, fuck.” Wonsik just panted beneath him, his hips still kicking up as he lifted Yoongi up and down just a little, just a _touch,_ enough to make Yoongi's belly pull tight and hard, shit, so good.

“So fucking good,” Wonsik said, leaning forward to lap his tongue over one abused nipple, tugging gently at the piercing before bending to bite at the tattoo that raked around Yoongi's ribcage. Yoongi groaned and pulled his head away with a hand in his hair, leaning back to look at the mess he'd made of Kim Wonsik. He was flushed from throat to hair, his chest covered in little welts from Yoongi dragging his nails like some kind of cat in heat. There was an impressive hickey at the side of his neck and his belly was splattered with cum, cooling fast. Yoongi clenched his ass and moaned when Wonsik pushed up into him.

“ _God,_ ” he groaned, slowly trying to push himself up, slowly rising off of Wonsik's softening cock with a wet, sloppy sound, groaning in shameless self-satisfaction when cum slipped down his skin, down the insides of his thighs. “Fuck, we need a shower.”

“Yeah,” Wonsik laughed, tipping his head back. “Not sure I'm gonna be able to get up for a minute. Legs're numb. You go ahead, I'll meet you there?”

“Lazy,” Yoongi accused, but he started toward the bathroom, doing his best to walk normally. It was hard, when he felt like he'd just had the dicking of his fucking _life._ Shit, Wonsik was big and he'd let Yoongi do whatever he wanted and Yoongi hadn't been that fucking aroused in years.

He turned on the bathroom light to look at himself. In addition to the bruises from his fall, there were now bruises forming on his hips, and his neck was fucking _littered_ with tiny hickeys. He wasn't gonna be able to go without a scarf for a fucking week. “Savage,” he shouted out into the other room, smirking at Wonsik's indignant, _What?!_

He was in the process of getting the shower to work when Wonsik walked up behind him and gave him a sound _smack_ on the back of his thigh. “What the hell,” he said, jerking around and glaring up at Wonsik, who smiled and it was so gorgeous, the fucking nerve of him. What an asshole.

“What,” Wonsik asked, and Yoongi wanted to punch him in the dick (again) but figured it was a bad idea because his intentions were to climb Kim Wonsik like a fucking tree every day for the rest of this trip so Yoongi kind of needed it. God damn it.

“Don't be a fucking brat just because you can,” he settled on saying, frowning down at the water.

“Sorry,” Wonsik said, and he wrapped his arms around Yoongi's middle instead, swaying them back and forth.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Yoongi asked, hating how his heart raced, hating how he pushed back into Wonsik's broader body and kind of liked it. How fucking hot was it that Wonsik was bigger, stronger, but Yoongi'd had complete control over him during sex, told him what to do, demanded, and he'd done everything he asked like a fucking subby bitch except that Yoongi had been the one taking his huge-ass cock for however long they'd been fucking? Fucking hot, that's what it was. Sunspot-hot. Dying star hot.

“Should I stop?” Wonsik moved to let go and Yoongi hissed.

“I didn't say you should.”

“Okay then,” Wonsik pressed a peck of a kiss to the back of his neck and Yoongi closed his eyes, let his lips part. Shit. _Shit_ he liked that. It was nice. Not quite the sickly sweet cuddling but not exactly getting kicked out of bed, it was comfortable and easy and shit. Shit, this was bad. So bad.

It was probably he'd never see Wonsik again after this trip was over because Yoongi didn't _do_ relationships and that was what this felt like.

He climbed into the shower and brought Wonsik with him, the two of them standing under the stream and to his own horror he didn't resist when Wonsik bent to kiss him, pressed him against the cold tile, cupped his asscheeks and spread him open to clean him up, out. It was fucking embarrassing and hot and Wonsik kept mouthing at his ear and neck and shit, Yoongi was weak, fucking weak because Kim Wonsik was about to fuck him for the second time in an hour and a half and all he could do was reach back to hold on to the shower bar and spread his fucking legs.

~

“So you're really hitting it off with Wonsik, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi replied, not looking up from his book. He could practically _hear_ Hoseok pouting at him. “Stop it, what's it matter to you anyway?”

“I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself~” Hoseok chirped, and Yoongi squinted.

“Did you fucking set this up on purpose, Jung Hoseok.”

“Nope,” Hoseok shook his head and since he was fucking incapable of lying Yoongi figured it had to be true which was annoying. This would be easier if he could blame it all on being a set-up by Jung Hoseok instead of his own fucking bodily desires ( _and feelings_ , some quiet part of him whispered) being in charge of what he was doing.

He and Wonsik had been fucking like animals every chance they got, since that first time. Any time they were together they couldn't keep their hands off one another and Yoongi kind of hated it, because he was acting like a horny teenager when he was a twenty-four year old adult but at the same time that was part of the appeal. It was racy and shameless and so good, and the two of them had things to talk about, Wonsik was _interesting,_ and it was more than just his nose that appealed to Yoongi. He was almost perfect, outspoken and soft-centered and stupid but he tried, he kept trying to skate and didn't try to make Yoongi ski and his hands were warm, his smile warmer.

But Yoongi would find a flaw in him soon enough. He had to, otherwise he was fucked beyond belief and he'd never want to leave this place and go back to Real Life when Wonsik was here, and not there. He could _not_ let himself finish falling for Wonsik. It had been two fucking amazing weeks, their time was almost over, and he had to find something wrong with him so he wouldn't fucking hurt when he left, when he had to walk away from Wonsik because the only thing that was keeping them from staying together was the damnable distance between them.

“But, hyung, if you like him, why don't you date him or something?”

“What part of, _I live in Daegu_ don't you understand,” Yoongi replied, still not looking up from his book.

“You could come live in Seoul,” Hoseok suggested, for the nine millionth time. “They're always looking for people at the studio, hyung, you could totally work there. I'd even put in a good word for you!”

“And guarantee I wouldn't get hired,”

“Yah!”

Yoongi laughed, grateful that Hoseok was distracted from the topic, too busy ranting about how he was _perfectly_ trustworthy and he was good at reading people and his gut instincts were almost always right, et cetera, ad nauseum... He was grateful Hoseok was distracted, because it gave him a few minutes to sit quietly and think about Kim Wonsik, and his dark, beautiful eyes.

~

Yoongi panted, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he held on to Wonsik's shoulders and stared up at him, thighs clamped on either side of Wonsik's skinny hips. God, he was beautiful, flushed with exertion, licking his lips and staring back at Yoongi through his soft blue hair. Shit. _Shit,_ he was fucking doomed, he was fucking screwed and Yoongi grunted, threw his head back when Wonsik snapped his hips down and forward.

“ _Fuck_ yeah, just like that, nn...” Wonsik did it again and Yoongi dug his fingernails in. Again and he made a Very Dignified yelping sound that evaporated into fucking—fucking twink porn star whining when Wonsik kept thrusting and Yoongi couldn't catch his breath to speak. He had to stop—catch his breath, had to breathe, and he pushed at Wonsik's shoulder, shaking his head, desperate for air, for distance because he was going to kiss him, god, he was going to fucking kiss him and it would be game over.

Wonsik sat up, sat back, and Yoongi bit into his lower lip, traced his fingers down Wonsik's toned belly and groaned when he kept rocking his hips, slow and shallow. “You okay,” Wonsik asked, and Yoongi nodded, reaching down to hold his own cock. Shit. Why was Wonsik so good, how could this be so fucking good?

“Here,” Wonsik said, shifting to sit on the bed, bringing Yoongi with him as he groaned and dropped his head, squeezed at the base of his dick and let his tongue rest in the corner of his mouth. “Lay down, lay down,” he said, and Yoongi let himself fall back, shouting at the change in position, the way Wonsik reclined back onto his own elbows and _looked_ at him. “Fuck yourself.”

It was the first time Wonsik had demanded something. He'd asked, questioned, hinted, but never demanded, and in the cool winter sunlight Yoongi found himself unable to say no, one hand on his cock and the other at his nipple, tugging on his piercings as he struggled to move his entire body back and forth, up and down, fucking himself down onto Wonsik's hips. He'd never done it this way. It was hard, all of his muscles were tight and straining but he could imagine the view was incredible, his cock hard, his balls tight as he tried to find rhythm, planting his feet and lifting, dropping, lifting. He stroked himself, panted hotly, and groaned when Wonsik started to move to meet him, his thighs flexing.

“Shit,” he panted, tugging himself, playing with his piercing and touching his fingers to his lips, “Shit, shit m'gonna fuckin'--” It happened so quickly—Yoongi felt himself blow his load over his belly, gasped for air and fucking _shrieked_ when Wonsik yanked on his hips, pushed himself up and curled Yoongi in on himself to fuck down into him and they kissed.

“Yoongi.”

Oh god they kissed and Yoongi moaned into Wonsik's mouth, his free hand clawing up into his hair as he trembled and tensed. Wonsik tasted like coffee, like americano, and Yoongi slipped his tongue against Wonsik's teeth and it was over, the fucking game was over, and Yoongi lost.

Yoongi lost.

“Wonsik,” he breathed when they parted, helpless and hating it. “Wonsik.”

~

Yoongi was not going to get upset. He was _not_ going to get upset, even though Wonsik had spent the night in his room, even though the two of them had slow, hot sex and kissed one another until they were sleeping, even though Wonsik had kissed him that morning and Yoongi hadn't even minded his morning breath because he was big and solid and smelled like clean sweat, sex and his aftershave. He was _not_ going to get upset like some kind of fifteen year old girl, god _damnit._

It didn't help that Hoseok was tip-toeing around him like he was some kind of time bomb. Jeongguk and Taehyung, too. He was _not_ going to lose it. He was _not_ going to get upset because Kim Wonsik had given him his business card with his number scrawled on the back and left a quiet, _please call me_ in his mouth when he had the fucking nerve to kiss him goodbye two hours ago like they were lovers instead of a vacation hookup. He was Not. Upset.

But the card was tucked safe in his wallet and if Yoongi felt fragile and abandoned he covered it up with gruff displeasure at the fact that they had to wait for a second bus since they missed the first one because Taehyung hadn't gotten up on time. If he felt soft and nervous because he was experiencing Feelings for the first time in a long time he hid it with a sharp glare and tight frown, his headphones in his ears and pumping out noise to drown his thoughts right where they were, on the edge of the cliff where Wonsik's good morning kiss had left him.

He was so fucked.

So fucking fucked.

~

“Hello?”

“Aah... Wonsik?”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, it's me--”

“Hey! Hold on--” rustling, muffled apologies. “Hey, how are you? God, it took you long enough to call!”

Three weeks wasn't such a long time but it had felt like it for Yoongi. Had felt like forever but he'd made himself wait because if this was just stupid pining for sex he was _not_ going to pursue it but he'd just felt more and more like a little black rain cloud until Namjoon had finally shoved him out of the studio to _get his shit together because he's bringing down everyone in the fucking office_ and he'd given in, dialed Wonsik's numbed while sitting in his car.

“Sorry,” he said, swallowing hard. “Listen, I. I was going to come visit Hoseok for a couple of weeks, I was wondering if maybe you. Wanted to get dinner, or something.”

“...Like a date?”

“...Yeah.”

There was a long pause and Yoongi held his breath, clutched his heart in his hands and hoped it wasn't going to bleed out down his wrists and fingertips.

“I'd like that a lot, Yoongi,” Wonsik said. “When are you coming?”

“Next week,” Yoongi replied, feeling like he was floating out in space somewhere.

“Well. Let me know where I can pick you up, okay? I know a lot of really good places to eat, I promise I'll take you somewhere fun, maybe you can stay over a couple of nights!”

“Okay,” Yoongi said, nodding at his windshield. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“Awesome,” Wonsik said, and Yoongi could hear his smile, see the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “I have to get back to my meeting but, I'll call you later, okay? Is this your cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'll call you when I get home, Yoongi.”

“All right.”

Yoongi hung up and swallowed hard, blinking down at his phone before dialing Hoseok.

“Yeah hyung?” he asked, tone cheery as always.

“Listen,” Yoongi said. “Listen, can I come and visit you next week?”

“...That's kind of short notice,” Hoseok said, and Yoongi felt his grin spreading across his mouth.

“Don't worry. I'll only stay a couple of nights I've got... Somewhere else to stay.”

He couldn't even make himself be annoyed at Hoseok's victory crow.

Maybe Yoongi hadn't lost the game, after all.

 


End file.
